Game 6
There are some bits of interest here, but not much. At 80 plus minutes, Michael Hoffman’s “Game 6,” a based on a screenplay by notable playwright Don Delillo, is a scant little affair. And, as the DVD extras tell me, the thing was budgeted at a remarkably low $500,000. Considering its all shot in New York, that’s even more impressive.
Clearly, Michael Keaton worked at a discounted rate. Keaton plays New York playwright Nicky Rogan during both the opening night of his latest play and the night of the infamous game 6 of the 1986 world series (you know, Mets vs. Red Sox, Bill Buckner boots the groundball in the 10th inning, Mets win.)
And clearly Robert Downey Jr, who plays the role of reclusive and infamous theatre critic Steven Schwimmer, also worked at a discounted rate. Schwimmer's home is a closely guarded secret. He meditates in something like a Buddhist setting and, as another character tells us “he doesn’t even have a bathroom.” Figure that one out yourself. He notoriously ruins playwrights’ careers. Like Elliott Litvak’s (Griffin Dunne) a friend of Nick’s who now seems fairly homeless and warns Nick about Schwimmer, who at first doesn’t care, claiming to be a craftsman rather than an artist.
Anyhow, we see it soon that the two, the playwright and the critic, are on a collision course. Nick is also on a collision course with a divorce; after all, as we see early on he cheats, and is at the very least distant from his wife purposely and his daughter on accident. His daughter tells him that this time “mother” is serious. But Nick’s got other things on his mind as well, like the decision of whether to watch his own play’s opening night or game 6 of the World Series. Inexplicably, though raised in New York, Nick is a Red Sox fan, and he waxes poetic not a few times about both this and about their (they being the Boston Red Sox) woes.
Then there is the play. The play is about his life growing up. So he visits his father, he sees his daughter, and he tries to deal with a leading man who can’t seem to remember his lines due to a brain bug picked up in Burma.
And how is it that I have gotten this far into a review of “Game 6” without mentioning taxi cabs? On this day, as on many others-I suppose here having never been to New York -in the big apple, the traffic is unbearable, and Nicky sits in at least eight cabs, every time noting the name and new ethnicity of the driver and telling him or her that he not only used to drive a cab but loved it. He and Elliott escape an asbestos disaster which covers an entire street and they get haircuts. Nicky picks up a gun, which makes no sense. And eventually some of it crashes together and Nicky must choose betwixt game or play. Luckily for Nick at this point if not the viewer a stock angelic/prophet African American cab driver named Toyota comes along with her grandson to add some levity to the affair. And Nicky grows, or does he?
What is this film about? Well there is certainly conflict and a decent enough set up. A moment in time. This man’s personal and professional lives perhaps collapsing or perhaps being saved, his possible professional peak dealing with personal matters and then the Red Sox, a life long diversion but also a life long struggle, emblematic perhaps of Nicky’s inability to succeed? He tells his father “I could have been happy; I could have been a Yankees fan.” Indeed. But he isn’t, and so what? Do we really care for this man? There are a few interesting interactions but I can’t quite understand the tone of this thing. The impending doom of the infamous Steven Schwimmer is balanced with Schwimmer’s own story; sort of a comic relief as he paints his face and faux meditates, but it doesn’t quite stick; it just seems ridiculous. “Game 6” never makes me care. And it’s kind of silly. Sure, it has its moments. The rehearsal scene is funny, as the game goes on the tension is raised, and his daughter is interesting enough, but the ending is contrived to say the least, with characters reacting to game 6 of the series as if they already knew the outcome, as if it were already a part of their history. This film is too scattered, too halfway funny and halfway serious, too at times predictable, and with a sort of ludicrous and unsatisfying ending. Too intellectually masturbatory without enough intellect, too whimsical without anything to be whimsy about.
Story: B Game 6 of the 1986 World Series collides with opening night of Nicky Rogans’ play and an impending divorce and lots of taxi cabs. Potentially insightful.
Acting: B- Not bad, not stunning. Sometimes a little silly.
Visuals: C Shot on super 16 do we need zolly’s? And, perhaps it’s the dvd transfer but this film looks like it was made in the 80’s, not in a good way.
Originality/Innovation: C Little midlife crisis thing, sort of just boring and silly.
Enjoyability Grade: C Pleasant enough diversion, completely forgettable.
Overall Grade: C+ I like the setup. There were possibilities but it didn’t pull itself out of its sillyness.
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